 | The Ballad of Babie Bell And Other Poems |  |
40
AT THE DEAD-HOUSE.
“Drown'd! drown'd!”—
Hamlet.
Hamlet.
Here is where they bring the dead
When they rise from the river's bed,
Sinful women who have thrown
Away the life they would not own—
Life despised and trampled down!
When they rise from the river's bed,
Sinful women who have thrown
Away the life they would not own—
Life despised and trampled down!
Sad enough. Now, you who write
Plays that give the world delight,
Tell me if in this there be
Naught for your new tragedy?
Ha! you start, you turn from me
A face brimful of misery!
Do you know that woman there,
That icy image of Despair?
Have you heard her softly speak?
Have you kissed her, lips and cheek?
Faith! you do not kiss her now!
Poor young mouth, and pale young brow,
Drenchéd hair, and glassy eye—
Go, put that in your tragedy!
Plays that give the world delight,
Tell me if in this there be
Naught for your new tragedy?
Ha! you start, you turn from me
A face brimful of misery!
Do you know that woman there,
That icy image of Despair?
Have you heard her softly speak?
Have you kissed her, lips and cheek?
Faith! you do not kiss her now!
Poor young mouth, and pale young brow,
Drenchéd hair, and glassy eye—
Go, put that in your tragedy!
| The Ballad of Babie Bell And Other Poems | |